Page 22

I paused, looking directly into Guy's eyes. "There's MacAllen Dragon Magic in those Wards, Guy."

Guy went entirely, dangerously still. The color drained from his face, his hazel eyes locking onto me with a look of sudden, horrific clarity.

I saw the expression and knew his stomach had dropped. "What?" I asked.

"It's mine," Guy whispered, the words landing in the quiet canyon like a bomb.

“What?”

“You’re in Arrhythmia, Texas.”

I stared at him. “Never heard of it.”

“You weren’t supposed to. About a century ago, Fogarty and his Stewards staged a Magical bomb scare, annexed a huge chunk of the Chihuahuan Desert, and sealed it behind Wards built with his Magic and reinforced with Hell Sorcery. Then they turned the place into a secret penal colony for Supernaturals they wanted out of the way.”

His jaw tightened.

“I was one of them.”

“Well, fuck.”

Guy motioned toward the shimmering barrier. “Fogarty's Magic and Hell’s Sorcery are baked into the original Wards. But I've spent nearly a century charging them, guarding them, and keeping them strong with my Dragon Magic. At this point, they're more mine than his. The barrier knows my signature. It knows my blood.”

My stomach dropped.

“And because we’re brothers…”

“…it recognizes you.”

Inside my mind, Sully let out a dark, definitive grunt. “There's our answer, Lad.”

That explained why the Wards recognized me. It didn't explain who built the Hellmark, who held the other end of the leash, or why Keevandrie had been standing on my oil rig the night my life went to Hell… literally.

Then, the true horror of the situation flashed in the depths of my brother's eyes. "Son of a bitch," Guy growled, his fists clenching.

"That's exactly what I was thinking," Bernie added.

“What? What are you thinking?” I asked.

Guy looked at Bernie. She nodded, and he instantly started to explain. “We’re both pretty sure Hell isn’t just tracking you.” He pointed at my arm. “The tether is using your MacAllen Magic like a stolen key to bypass my Wards.”

Maisie leaned against a nearby rock, her voice dripping with dry sarcasm. "For the record, I've been thinking much worse things."

I watched my brother's expression darken. That old, deeply ingrained martyr instinct– the fierce, sacrificial drive that every Guardsman had– flared to life in my chest. I looked at the barrier, my face emptying of all warmth. "If I leave…"

"No," Guy instantly cut me off, his voice snapping like a whip.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," I growled back, my pride bristling.

Maisie let out a loud, dramatic sigh from the rocks. "He was going to say something incredibly stupid and heroic, Guy. He wants to walk back into the meat grinder over there to save the day."

Guy shifted his gaze to Maisie, a sudden spark of sibling solidarity flashing between them. "Yeah. He does that. He’s always done that."

I looked between the two of them, my irritation spiking to about a hundred. "Whose side are you two on?"

Maisie and Guy didn't even blink, answering simultaneously with perfect, terrifying synchronization. "Mine."

I closed my eyes for a brief second, exhaling as much of my frustration as I could. I loved my family, but I already wanted to throw them into a cave.